


In Sackcloth and Ashes

by Cerah528



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8108608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerah528/pseuds/Cerah528
Summary: Sorrow: A feeling of loss or grief caused by the loss of someone or something(Merriam-Webster)





	

Sorrow: A feeling of loss or grief caused by the loss of someone or something(Merriam-Webster). Such a simple definition, yet it does not give depth to the feelings, does not tell of the struggle of each day. It does not mention the trial of pain and suffering, or the strength it takes to get up and move on. It is said sorrow will pass, but because it cuts so deep, and is so hard to define this feeling does not truly fade.

  
When your knees hit the ground because they are too weak to keep you standing, when the world begins to swallow you, do you break? Do you lose yourself to the grief, the madness, and the pain? The day begins to lose its color when the loss hits anew, the feelings as strong as the day it happened. Your heart rips apart at the seams, trying to hold it together when everything seems to be falling apart. Curled on the floor as the world continues around you, unable to move, to care as your world crumbles, falling away to ashes and dust. The loneliness slowly becomes all that you have. The isolation creeps in, a malignant tumor eating at your thoughts, wearing you down. The voice in your head begins telling you of your worthlessness, of the weakness of breaking.

  
Who says your sorrow is not truly sorrow? When do you lose enough, or break hard enough, for it to be called sorrow? Who gets to tell you that your sorrow is less than theirs, or that your heartbreak is not worth the tears you shed? No one around you understands, they do not see the gaping wounds in your soul. People keep saying it will get better, but how can this get better? The knowledge that you cannot cry in front of these people becomes unbearable as you realize that you cannot show weakness as your life crumbles around you.

  
How do you find the words to describe the brokenness inside you? How do you tell someone of the feelings that cut and drag like a dull knife? A bitten lip, a downturned face. The sting of unshed tears, the echoing wails of a broken heart. Shaking hands attempting to stitch a shattered heart back together. Watching the one who promised you everything turn and walk away. Seeing the one who was invincible fade away. A broken promise, a forgotten dream. Failure nipping at your heels. Untold loss screamed to the sky. Drowning in uncertainty. Asking questions that do not have answers. Fragments of a broken life scattered on the floor. Soul deep despair that drags you over the edge, and into the abyss. The unbearable tightness in your chest that twists up your throat blocking the words. Heaving, burning sobs as the loss hits you again and again, reminding you every day that they are gone.

  
To find the will to get back up, to overcome the sorrow is true strength. The pain and grief never truly leave, they just fade and become scars. Ambushing you when you least expect it. Driving you back to your knees as the phantom pain flares, bright and burning, reminding you of your loss once again. Deep ragged wounds, weeping bloody tears with no way to fix them. As time passes the edges start to heal, the pain begins to dull, and the memories become shadows. All that is left is the horrific scarring to show your suffering. Rebuilding from nothing, gritting your teeth and soldiering on, because what else can you do? You could crumble in your grief and never get up, drown in your loss and never surface, but you could rise from the ashes, stronger for your brokenness. Burning bright after falling into the black.


End file.
